by Shae Mills
“Fremma,” Chelan said. “I have already sent a coded communiqué of the highest military classification to him explaining my decision and absolving you of any blame. He will receive it within the hour.”
Fremma sucked in a deep breath. “My Lady, the tour of duty to which RIBUS 10 is assigned, combined with our trajectory, puts us, very shortly, within extremely close quarters with one another. You may have just accelerated the fate of my crew and myself. Should Korba choose to abort your journey, he could be here within a couple of days.”
Chelan stood. “I understand that. I have thought it all through.” She moved over to Fremma and sat down in his lap, curling up like a contented Persian kitten. “This new plan is sound. Besides, he knows my feelings for you, dear Fremma. He would not harm you, for it would sever my link to him.”
Fremma smiled wryly. “You forget, my Lady, about our Lord God’s fierce protectiveness of you. He squashed the Galactic Empire overnight because of what Ticees did to you.”
“Ticees raped me, Fremma. You merely concurred with my suggestion. That is completely different.”
“And wiping the existence of RIBUS 7 from the history books and sending the Empire to its knees are also totally different, my Lady. The loss of RIBUS 7 would be akin to slapping a fly on the wall, relatively. At the very least, he could castrate me for this.”
Chelan’s eyes widened. “He would not do that and you know it. If Ticees escaped such a fate, so shall you.”
Fremma thoughts were catapulted back in time to the Emperor’s fall. He had wanted so badly to relieve the man of his genitals that it had taken Dar to prevent the deed from happening. The men of the Empire did not maim their victims, but Fremma had been willing to make an exception. Fremma looked down at Chelan. “No, but he could conceivably kill me.”
Chelan shook her head. “Look, when we first came to Iceanea, I asked him if he would grant me my wish of returning to Earth, and he said yes.” She looked up into Fremma’s concerned eyes. “And we both know this plan is more than reasonable. Zane agreed. So consider this my wish granted.”
Fremma gave her a weak smile. “Somehow I don’t think this is what Korba had in mind. But upon giving that some consideration, maybe my Lord will let this whole change in venue slide.”
“Fremma, he knows what supremely competent Commanders both you and Zane are. He will, therefore, see the wisdom of this plan. I will come to no harm on Earth, plus I will get to see my family once again. All the bases are covered. He will understand. You will see.”
Fremma smiled once again. “I pray that you are right, my Lady.”
Chelan smiled back. “Now scram. I know that you are supposed to be on the Bridge while fledgling engines spread their wings. Korba won’t understand if you put a ding in his precious RIBUS 7 on her maiden voyage. And besides, I need some sleep. After today’s excitement, the morning will come all too soon for me.”
Fremma stood and lowered her gently to her feet. His fingers stroked her pretty pink cheeks. “I wish I could stay with you tonight, my Lady,” he whispered.
Chelan hesitated as she looked up into his passionate eyes. “Maybe you can.”
Fremma kissed her briefly. Then he shook his head slowly. “It is best that I do not. Not until any kinks in the new drive are worked out.”
Chelan smiled. “Then I will see you in the morning.”
Fremma backed away from her. “I look forward to that, my Lady.”
Chelan watched as he turned in a flurry of black and left. “So do I,” she whispered. “So do I.”
Chapter 7
Fremma sat in the command chair on the Bridge, watching the readouts scroll by. Tarn looked back at him over his shoulder. “She is performing superbly, Sire.”
Fremma smiled at him. “That she is, Commander. She is one beautiful ship. And with the new armaments—”
“Sire!” the helmsman called out. “High-speed fighter on direct intercept course.”
Fremma sprang to his feet. “Distance!”
“Five hundred million light-years and closing fast.”
Fremma and Tarn’s eyes meet. Fremma looked up at the central screen. “Identify.”
There was silence for a moment. “Imperial, my Lord. Long-range fighter. No call numbers displayed.”
“Communications!” roared Fremma.
“None, Sire.”
“Identify the pilot!”
“Negative, Sire: no body readouts. Everything is shielded.”
“Shields up!” ordered the Warlord brusquely. “Bring weapons to bear.”
Tarn gasped. “Weapons? You know as well as I who pilots that vessel!”
Fremma whirled to face his First Officer, the Warlord’s eyes igniting with a hot blue flame. “I know nothing of the kind. This is an Imperial battle cruiser, one of the most prized and sought-after vessels in the galaxy. And on her decks is the Empress, to be guarded at all costs! What I do know is that we are being overtaken by an unidentified hostile fighter that refuses to acknowledge our hails. She is nowhere near capable of downing the RIBUS, but her weapons could inflict serious and preventable damage. As long as the Lady Chelan is on board this vessel, I take no risks. Is that understood?”
Wisely, Tarn remained mute.
“Weapons!” boomed Fremma.
“Weapons, Sire. The target is marked.”
“Communications! Order an ID.”
“None forthcoming, Sire.”
“Open all frequencies. Issue a warning. Commence countdown.”
“Hell, Fremma!” shouted Tarn. “You are about to blow the Emperor into oblivion!”
“Countdown commenced, warning issued. Weapons ready.”
“Fremma!” yelled Tarn. “What if his communications are down?”
Fremma seethed at his First Officer. “If he is stupid enough to approach a battleship with downed communications or crazy enough to fail to monitor our communications, then his fate is his folly.”
“Sire, the countdown! Fighter coming into range. What are your orders?”
The crew focused their attention on the fighter’s trajectory, breaths held, all heartbeats stopped. Five… four… three…
“It is Korba, my Lord,” shouted the Communications Officer. “He requests docking in the private hangar.”
“Abort countdown!” Fremma ran for the main doors. “Damn it all,” he growled to himself. Then, over his shoulder, he yelled, “Maintain shields until she is at the airlock doors. Tarn, you have the Comm.”
Fremma bolted from the Bridge, traversing the distance to the private Command Center within seconds. Bursting through the doors, he nearly ran into Chelan just as she sauntered out of the sleeping quarters. “God, Fremma!” she stammered in a startled squeak. “What is wrong?”
The Warlord grabbed her roughly and thrust her toward the main entrance. “He is here! You must go to the Bridge.”
Chelan’s stomach lurched as she struggled to dislodge Fremma’s vise-like grip. “Let me talk to him.”
“No!” shouted Fremma. “This is my hand. I must play it.”
“Fremma!” Chelan twisted violently against him but the giant man subdued her effortlessly and rushed her out into the hall.
“Yanis! Take her to Tarn.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“No!” yelled Chelan. “I order you to release me.”
Yanis looked to his Commander in confusion. Fremma’s jaw clenched as he struggled with the determined woman. He glared at Chelan and ground out to Yanis, “I order you to defy her for the sake of her own safety. His Lordship the Emperor has just arrived, and he is none too happy. If battle is to ensue, I want her on the Bridge under Tarn’s protection.”
Yanis went to take her from Fremma, but she kicked out at him, using Fremma’s weight to support herself. “Stay away, Yanis! I need to be in there to prevent any such battle.”
Fremma increased his grip on her until she was forced to be still. His breathing was ragged. He lowered his voice to an ominous rumble
. “Cease your nonsense, my Lady, or I will take the time to truss you up like one of your world’s chickens and chain you to a bulkhead.”
Chelan strained against him. “He will not dare touch you while I am with you, you clod! Let go of me.”
“If he fails to hear me out pertaining to this situation, he will grab you and likely shoot me where I stand. Then he will take you on board his fighter, and, if he is lenient, he will allow RIBUS 7 to go on her way with Tarn in command.”
“He will not! He will—”
“He will what? Be reasonable?” Fremma shouted. “Where you are concerned, reason has never passed through his brain. He didn’t take only Ticees out for what he did to you, Chelan. He took down the whole fucking Empire!”
Chelan went limp. “I already explained it all in the communiqué I sent.”
“Given that he didn’t reply instantly, with his blessing on a decision well made, I suspect he is in need of a little further persuasion. And judging by the speed at which he approached this vessel, that persuasion just might be a little tough to deliver. He is not amused, and right now I don’t know if that is because he feels this was the wrong move when it comes to your safety or if he is simply pissed off at my insubordination. Either way, I need to deal with him alone, warrior to warrior.”
Fremma shoved her forcefully into Yanis’s arms. “Take her to the Bridge. Gather your best men together and stay there until I order otherwise.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
Chelan panted for air, her eyes grievous. “Take care, my precious man,” she said. “I am so sorry I caused this.”
Fremma stepped forward and took her head in his hands. He kissed her hard on the mouth once, then released her. “I am as complicit as you in this. I would not have agreed to it all if it was not tactically sound.” He took a step back and nodded at Yanis. “Take her away,” he ordered.
Then he turned, reentered the Command Center, and headed toward the workout area. Suddenly, he stopped. A shrouded figure stepped out of the shadows. Fremma braced himself, his body poised for battle. “My Lord,” he acknowledged warily.
Korba stripped off his helmet and flight gear, throwing them violently to the side. His searing eyes glowed with heated rage. “First I slit your throat, and then I take Chelan to RIBUS 5, where she belongs.”
“Do with me as you please, Sire, but remember, my Lady’s feelings come first, both for you and for me.”
Korba drew a blade and started toward the Warlord. “You had no right to remove her from the Palace. You had no right to interfere with Zane’s orders. And you had no right to disobey my orders, period!”
Fremma took a step back and drew his own knife. “I ascertained the situation accurately. In addition, I did as she ordered, as her feelings dictated, and as she required. She is not a helpless pawn in this. I stand by my decision, and I accept your challenge in her honor.”
Korba lunged at him, the two great men hitting each other with such force that it rocked the Command Center.
*****
As Chelan was being ushered toward the Bridge, she squirmed loose from Yanis; the befuddled warrior scared to hold her too tight for fear of harming her. Finally, she yanked completely free. “I am okay,” she asserted.
Yanis and his contingent stopped as she straightened herself and squared her shoulders. She looked up at him. “Listen. I know your orders, but right now one or both of the galaxy’s two greatest men are about to gut one another over an idea I put forth impulsively. I need to stop them.”
“My Lady, my primary directive above all else is your protection. If I—”
“If you what?” she shouted. “If you take me to the Bridge, then what? They will kill one another! If I go back, I can stop it, and you know bloody well that no harm will come to me no matter the outcome between them.”
Chelan took advantage of the brief opportunity afforded by Yanis’ hesitation to bolt around the guards and sprint for the Command Center. Men scattered everywhere.
Yanis lunged after her, pushing one of his men out of the way. “Fremma ordered—”
“Fremma be damned!” she shouted authoritatively just as the warrior caught up to and tackled her. She swung at him, just missing his face. “I order you to let me go!”
Yanis sobered, his confusion mounting. “You are going to get me killed on top of everything!” he shouted.
“Jesus, Yanis! There will be no one left to execute you at this rate. Korba could be in there right now, killing Fremma for obeying me, for taking me up on my idea. Now let me go!”
Yanis finally released her, his chest heaving from exertion. They squared off, and then he raised his hands in defeat. He nodded to her and bade the other guards not to impede her flight.
Chelan whirled about and dashed down the hall. She burst through the Command Center doors only to find Korba looming over Fremma like a giant black angel of death, both men locked in a desperate bid to dispatch the other. “No!” she yelled.
Korba’s head snapped up.
“No!” she shouted again, and she flew to the Command Center console. There she grabbed her lazgun and pointed it to her own chest. Both men froze. “Leave each other alone,” she seethed, “or I will pull the trigger, sure as hell. I would rather blast myself into oblivion than live without either of you, knowing full well that your death was at my hand.”
Korba lowered his knife as he rose off of Fremma. Both men’s eyes were locked on hers. Finally, Korba regained his breath and dared to speak, his voice barely a whisper. “Chelan, please, put the gun down.”
Chelan shook her head defiantly. “Both of you, sheathe your knives.”
The men rose slowly and complied with her demand. Fremma took a tentative step toward her, his hand outstretched. “Please, Chelan, give me the gun.”
Chelan took a step back, her grim determination etched plainly on her face. She tightened her grip on the weapon and both men were rendered instantly immobile. “Now we talk,” she whispered. “If either of you even contemplates laying a hand on the other again, I will pull the trigger. And you both know me well enough by now to know that I am not bluffing. I am tired of all this shit, and I bloody well want it to stop!”
Korba and Fremma were temporarily stunned, and their eyes met briefly. Then Korba set his jaw and looked back at Chelan, her elegant body straight and as still as stone. “You should have stayed with Zane,” he said as benignly as he could manage.
Chelan remained silent while her mind tumbled the whole situation over. Then, nodding to Fremma, she spoke. “Leave us.”
Fremma shook his head. “I dare not, my Lady.”
“Fremma!” she stormed. Then, staying her frayed nerves, she lowered her voice. “Please, Fremma. I am not leaving this ship. You have my word. I need to talk to Korba alone. Please, go to the Bridge and await my orders.”
Fremma’s disciplined military mind balked at the idea of leaving her, but he had her word that she would not depart, at least for the moment. He only hoped that her ability to subdue the raging animal next to him was at its pinnacle of refinement. He glanced at Korba, but the Emperor’s eyes remained fixed on the little alien. Fremma began to back away cautiously until he was near the doors. When they opened, only then did he dare to turn his back on the two unlikely combatants and take his leave.
Chelan breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed her grip on the gun just a hair. But what she could not have possibly anticipated was Korba’s catlike speed, further heightened by rage and fear. All she saw was a brief flurry of black and the lazgun was gone. Korba’s massive hand clenched both of hers painfully, his body pressing her forcefully against the console and immobilizing her.
His eyes burned into her. “Don’t you ever threaten me again.”
Chelan gasped at his harshness, her slender wrists bruising under his clamp-like pressure. Suddenly, all vestiges of composure left her. “You are hurting me,” she whimpered. “And I am sorry.”
Korba’s chest began to heave with despair. He
had been unintentionally harsh in his desperate attempt to keep her from harming herself, his fear for her safety clouding his senses. Instantly, he released her and took a step back.
Chelan clutched at her wrists, her sorrow making it nearly impossible to talk. “You say you love me, yet you hurt me. You say that you care, yet you try to kill the very man whom I love almost as desperately as I love you.” She took several deep breaths as she attempted to collect herself. But her trembling was uncontrollable. She clenched her shaking hands to her breasts and sagged against the console for support. “In your effort to keep me safe, you stifle me. In your bid to protect me, you make unilateral decisions without consulting me. I am not a pet. I am your partner and your mate, and I am just as capable of coming up with sound solutions to problems as you.”
Korba stared at her. “This was not a decision pertaining to the venue selection for a conference. This was a military decision of the highest level.”
“I understand that. I admit that I came up with the idea of relocating to Earth on impulse, but I ran it past both Fremma and Zane first. They could have rejected it outright for any number of reasons, but they did not. They too are excellent tacticians. I value their opinions. And Fremma loves me as much as you do. He would never agree to anything that would put me in jeopardy.”
Korba remained as still as death itself, his features completely indecipherable. Chelan gathered herself together. “You say that I threatened you. If you see any of my acts as disobedience or insubordination, then punish me as you would one of your warriors. But do not threaten or attack Fremma for following my suggestion and acting on my orders. He does not deserve your wrath. This plan affords me safe sanctuary, both on my home planet and while en route via RIBUS 7; it fulfills your dictate while leaving me in the company of Fremma for the duration of the trip; and in the end, I get to be with my family once again.”